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I'm the forgotten loaf in the back of your pantry,

the nail poking through the bottom of your shoe,

 the zit that pains you when you touch me,

the ancient, unwanted, in-the-attic heirloom.

You're the silence between my heartbeats

and the the jam between my toes,

you're the jokester's tack on my seat,

and the "love-me-not" petals of a rose.

Before, we were each other's homes,

two dry places to ride out the storm,

our bridge had burnt itself on its own,

an outfit discarded before worn.

and now we have found, my dear,

that all that is left of our crumbling affair

are a few smoldering embers

and naught but dust in the shimmering air.

Reviews

[anonyMEty.celeste]

How'd you get to the title of your poem?

So it's the lost love between a man who still loves the woman who no longer does him? (Love the purposeful rhyming, by the way)

[John]

I guess it's about two lovers who kind of just fell out of love naturally, despite how strong their emotions were before.
The title just came to me, idk.

[anonyMEty.celeste]

haha those are always the best, aren't they

[John]

Indubitably.